A World of Stories to Tell
by Literary Portals
Summary: Prompt fills centered around the Harry Potter Universe to get my creative juices flowing. Prompts from tumblr, lj, and other places.
1. Blankets Love You

**Prompt 408. Blankets love you.**

Ron's just barely awake, and buried deep under the heavy blanket. He's glad Hermione convinced him to invest in an expensive bed, no matter the galleons, because Auror work is painful and really, he doesn't want to leave because _great Merlin this bed is like food and loves him and he loves it_.

A cold foot nudges his calf, and his shivers and opens his eyes. Hermione is asleep next to him, hair in a wild mess around her face, mouth slightly open. He loves the way she snores; the little rasping hitch of breath.

He closes his eyes again, nearly dizzy with sleepiness. He feels as though he's on a boat, swaying into unconsciousness, when the door suddenly slams open. The sound is followed by pattering feet, and Ron tenses.

With a _whump _a small, bony body lands sprawled across him and Hermione. Ron groans and Hermione shrieks.

"ROSE!"

"Sorry Mummy," Rose says, grinning as she burrows under the blankets and between her parents.

Ron just grunts and pokes his daughter in the stomach.

"I love this blanket," the five year old sighs.

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_**A/N:**__ The beginning of this writing exercise. Prompts get my imagination going. Let me know what you think!_


	2. Draco Proposes

The first time he expects, so Astoria says 'no' and smugly takes in his gobsmacked expression. It's quite comical, the way his mouth hangs and his grey eyes widen, and his whole, tense body goes slack with shock.

The second time is for power, so she says 'no' and explains why. "I don't marry children."

The third time is for prestige, she says 'no' and, "You're a child in the way you think, and I've done a lot of growing up. You still act like you did in Hogwarts."

The fourth time is a demand and she say 'no' and sighs, because he doesn't seem to be learning.

The fifth time is a warning, so she says 'no' and Draco dumps her. She shrugs it off. She loves him, but he's still a fool and Astoria has had her fill of fools.

The sixth time he is desperate, he yells it at her, and when she says 'no', he breaks down in tears.

The seventh time, he goes to her and tells her he's not sure if he's ready for marriage, so he won't ask her until he has figured it out.

Astoria says 'yes' because he told the truth and loved her enough to say it.

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_**A/N**: edited for clarity. _


	3. Freckles

**Prompt 410. Freckles that change places.**

Some people think they can tell which one of them is Fred and which of them is George by the placement of their freckles. By 'people', George means his family and Angelina, because they're the only ones bothered enough to actually stare at him and Fred that closely.

Thing is, they can never get it right, not even Percy who has a brain like a sponge, or Angelina, whose as determined as a Bludger, and Fred and George are the only ones who know why.

Their freckles never stay in one place.

Nope, Fred and George's freckles travel across the wide expanse of their wiry, pale bodies like orange constellations of stars. If anyone discovers it, they'll claim that they were born that way, but no one does.

Truth is, when they were seven, Fred snitched Bill's wand and they'd hidden in Dad's work-shed. Fred had begun waving it around, chanting mumbo-jumbo for the fun of it, seeing which random combinations of letters sent light ricocheting away to cause havoc. George got bored, and demanded Fred share.

As they were play-wrestling for the wand, shouting nonsense, a spell went off and hit them both. And then their freckles started sailing around, but not before they both turned purple from the roots of their hair to their nails. By then, Mum had noticed the ruckus and the smell of smoke (they'd set something on fire in Dad's shed) and found them.

George likes to pretend that was the end of it, and that their Mum did not blow like a dragon and give them the worst punishment of their young lives by calling their Dad home from the Ministry so that he could be angry with them. (Dad was scarier then Mum when he got angry, just because he barely ever _did_ get angry).

And then Bill had yelled at them and refused to play Quidditch with them for a month because he got into trouble for leaving his wand laying around where the twins could get at it, not to mention ickle-Ronnie.

And Charlie had gotten angry because Mum was furious the whole day so he hadn't been allowed to run off and explore the moors surrounding Ottery St. Catchpole looking for creatures like he'd been promised.

And Ginny began bawling from the excitment, and wouldn't stop for the rest of the day.

"It was worth it though," Fred whispered that night.

"Definitely," George whispered back, and they tickled each other by following their freckle-stars with their fingers.

* * *

They don't know that later, no one will try to memorize freckle placement because there'll only be one of them left.

* * *

_**A/N: **__I love this one. A lot. All my Weasley feels! Did you like it?_


	4. Drink Me

**_hpfanfictionprompts_ #256:_ "I suppose this is the magical equivalent to the big red button you're not supposed to press?"_**

"I suppose this is the magical equivalent to the big red button you're not supposed to press?" Harry asked futilely.

Hermione gaped, and Ron howled with laughter, tears streaming down his face as he clutched the walls of his cubicle. Harry scowled up at his friends and brushed long locks of hair from his face with tiny, cherubic hands. "It said 'drink me', Hermione, how was I supposed to know it was a potion?"

"Harry Potter!" Hermione shrieked, having regained the use of her voice, "You are twenty-one years old! You're an auror! YOU'RE IN THE MINSTRY OF MAGIC. Why would you eat suspicious looking drinks that find themselves on your desk!"

"I thought it was a gift from Ginny!" he cried.

Hermione threw up her hands. Ron fell off his chair, and kept on laughing. Harry decided to disown him as his best friend.

"You're lucky it was harmless," Hermione muttered.

"H-harmless?" Ron hiccupped, panting, his face red from exertion. "My best mate's a three year old girl!"

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_**A/N: **T__ake from this drabble what you will, I decided to combine two HP tropes: spontaneous-child!fic and spontaneous-girl!fic. _


	5. Advice

**Prompt 255. Sirius gives James advice on Lily's Christmas present.**

Sirius gave James advice on Lily's Christmas present. It was to give up.

James had, for the past six years, gotten Lily a Christmas present without fail; -flowers, jewelry, chocolate, books, photos of the Marauders, photos of himself, a jumper. They'd all been returned, unopened, by a House Elf on Christmas day.

But Sirius had told him to give up.

James was at a loss, and decided to go on a leisurely broom ride to think, because he did his best thinking in the air. The other Marauders waited in the stands on the Quidditch pitch, watching him, huddled in thick cloaks and holding cups of cocoa while fat flakes drifted down and muffled the sounds and sights of Hogwarts waiting for the holidays.

James honestly had no idea what to do. He was tired, right down to his bones. He kept trying to chase that exhaustion away with pranks and schoolwork and being Head Boy and being around Lily. It wasn't working. His parents were in hiding. The Dark Tosser was amassing power and infiltrating Hogwarts through stupid, conniving students who recruited and whispered and weaseled their way into gaining followers.

Lily didn't hate him, not anymore, but he was just barely tolerated, and James was just. Fed up. He did one more lap around the pitch and then descended and dismounted. Moony, Wormtail and Padfoot bounded up to him.

"Fine," he told Sirius. Remus squeezed his shoulder, and then stepped away to let Sirius hug him and ruffle his hair affectionately.

"It'll be alright," Peter said.

Lily strode up to him in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room as he was opening his Christmas haul, her green eyes flashing. Sirius, Remus, and Peter all sidled away a few steps. _Cowards_, James thought, and waited for Lily's inevitable outburst.

She opened her mouth, colour high in her cheeks, before snapping it shut with a strangled growl.

"Evans, cat got your—," James began.

He doesn't finish, because Lily has him by the collar and is yanking him towards her—he flails over the back of the couch less than gracefully—and then...

When he looks back on it, all he remembers are impressions. Soft lips, hot breath, cold hands, red hair, determined eyes.

"You never got me a present," she said when she pulled away for air. The Marauders were hooting gleefully, they were surrounded by cheering Gryffindors, but all James could see were Lily's eyes, and how she seems just the slightest bit apologetic.

"I thought...after all this time. Maybe," James pauses, stammers, he hates talking about feelings, serious feelings, but this is _Lily_. "Maybe there was no point anymore?"

Lily kisses him again.

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_**A/N:** Two in one day! I'm on a roll! Also, this was really Sirius' dastardly plan all along. Not to say that Lily was invested in the 'chase', but rather, she realized she was missing his present, which made her think about why, which made her fess up to the fact that she likes James, which spurred her to confront him and resulted in a kiss. _


	6. Sunflowers

**Prompt 336. One Word Wednesday: Sunflowers**

"Do you know why I love sunflowers, Mum? Because before they've bloomed and shown off their petals, they gravitate towards the sun.

It's magical, Mum, and it's brilliant 'cause they're not _actually_ magical. Like, we use them in potions and things, but they're really just ordinary, and at the same time _not_ ordinary.

Makes me think, right, that some people are a lot like sunflowers. They gravitate towards big, beautiful, special things, especially when they haven't found their own specialness. I dunno, Mum, if I'm making sense but…yeah.

Anyway, I came here to tell you and Dad that McGonagall's hired me. I'm gonna be the Herbology Professor when term starts. It's nothing like being an Auror, but you know, I'm happy with it. Herbology was my best subject, and I'm really great at it, and even Nan's proud of me. We've never had a Hogwarts professor in the family before…"

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_**A/N:** Post-war snippet, obvs. And urgh, you have no idea how many times this drabble changed. Initially it was Luna reflecting on Harry and his friends and then I though of Neville and...well. Not sure about his voice in this piece. Comments?_


	7. The First Christmas

**Prompt 335. Your favorite wizarding family puts up their Christmas tree.**

The first Christmas, afterwards, is the hardest.

They are all coping, continuing their lives, rebuilding what can be salvaged of all that was taken during the war. Molly, Merlin bless her, is determined that everyone be full of good cheer and that all is done the way it's always been done.

But nothing is the same when you've lost someone, especially not a child.

Still, they haven't only lost, but gained. Ron has proposed to Hermione and they plan to have a wedding on the New Year. (Arthur secretly thinks this is so Ron never forgets his anniversary).

Harry and Ginny seem determined to put all seriousness off for many more years (which, truth be told, is quite relieving, as both of them are his youngest and he's not sure he's quite ready for them to move on).

George has opened the shop in time for the holidays, and has life in him after months and months of going through the motions and trying so hard that it broke his heart everyday to see it. There's something easier in the way he moves. It's never easy, and never will be, but Arthur will settle for just a little less rawness. Percy and Angelina are a godsend to them all.

Charlie is home, and Bill is home, and Fleur with him, all three looking just a tad younger surrounded by good food and merriness and Christmas baubles.

But then someone, he's not sure who, announces that the Burrow is decorated from shingle to cellar, and its time for the tree.

Never before has it been such a solemn, accident-less, prank-less, occasion. There are no tears, just a heavy, warm silence of breaths, an old house, and a gently creaking tree swaying in an enchanted breeze and scattering scented pine everywhere. Arthur's heart clenches painfully tight and he hugs his wife as one by one, they deck the tree in Weasely baubles.

Golden crowns and purple stars and practice wands and enchanted first snowballs and teething rings and miniatures and ribbons and fairies are placed until finally, only the star at the top is needed. Harry hands it to Arthur after a furtive, terribly vulnerable glance around, as though asking if he's allowed to partake in this family ritual. (And of course he is, the dear, sweet boy; a child of Arthur's as all of them are).

Arthur takes it. "Wingardium Leviosa," he murmurs, and the star wafts up.

The fire pops and sizzles, and George, of all people, begins a warbling, rude song about Merlin and Vivienne that sets everyone to laughing and sobbing at once. They all join in, even Molly. Somewhere, Fred is cheering.

Movement catches Arthur's eye, and he glances to the side to see fat snowflakes spinning to the frozen ground outside the window.

"Merry Christmas," he murmurs to his wife.

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_**A/N**: This was NOT supposed to be so long but I had feeeeeliiiiings and my heart kind of exploded onto my keyboard and this is what happened?_


	8. Night Terrors

They locked up the Muggleborn's they caught, and every now and again, just often enough that she's afraid to fall asleep in case tonight is the night, the terror comes back. It's like when they got her out of Azkaban a tiny, invisible dementor attached itself to her, so whenever there's enough happiness going 'round, it springs and tries to suck at her soul.

She'll fall asleep and then it's like she's back in Azkaban and she can hear herself screaming but she can't stop and she's blind and deaf and cold and so, so scared. Then she'll wake up in the bathroom or in their bed or on the street or standing on the window ledge with his arms pulling her back into their flat.

And he'll look so terrified and hold her so tight that she'll have bruises, and she'll cry and cry and cry that she just wants her Mum.

* * *

_**A/N:** A Muggleborn's troubles post-war. Could be Percy and Penelope Clearwater but...I had no one particular in mind. My own prompt._


	9. Naming

**Prompt 395. Harry explains to Lily Luna how she got her name.**

Ginny is still pale, her freckles standing out sharply, her hair all the more vivid for the contrast, and she lies curled on her side while Lily Luna Potter sleeps cradled against her chest.

Harry feels as though his heart can't possibly swell any bigger or he'll keel over and die, and that just won't do. Death might be the next great adventure, but right now, parenthood is the greatest adventure he can conceive of.

He gently runs a calloused finger over his daughter's soft, dark crown and the baby shifts and mouths at the air in her sleep. "Lily Luna Potter," he whispers, so as not to wake them both, "Ginny would laugh to know I'm doing this again, but it's always good to know where you come from. I've done it for your brothers, and I'll do it for you, and it doesn't matter that you're too little to understand.

Anyway, you've been listening to your Mum for nine months, it's about time you heard more of your Dad." Harry grins a little. Somewhere downstairs, muted by the spell over the room, his boys shriek as Ron does something that's probably dangerous to amuse the little devils.

"You've got your first name from my Mum, obviously," he continues, "She died when I was a baby, and isn't that morbid? It's not really though, because she loved me so much that she saved my life over and over. I met her again, much later, but that's another story.

Your Gran was beautiful and brave and a bit scary. A lot like your Mum, actually. She was great at Charms and Potions, and she had the ability to make the worst sort fall for her. Including my Dad, who was rotten and brilliant, and my old Potion's teacher, which is still bloody creepy."

Ginny grumbles something in her sleep, and a furrow appears between her brows. "Scratch that, creepy is what your Mum is. Dunno how she can tell I'm swearing when she's practically in a coma. Anyway, Lily Luna, your second name comes from the strangest girl I've ever met."

Lily makes a whimpering sigh of sound, and Harry shushes her and rubs gently at her rotund little tummy. "'S not an insult. There was a year when I thought I was going absolutely mad, and I was really scared and feeling very sorry for myself. That's when Luna came along and thoroughly distracted me.

She made me think, too, which isn't easy when I'm in the kind of mood I was in. She's as lovely as her name, and you'll love her as an aunt, Lily. Don't listen to anyone who says she's bonkers. I think it's just that she's on a completely different plane of existence and accompanies us mere mortals only occasionally."

"Harry?"

Harry starts, and looks up. Ginny stares groggily at him from under messy strands of hair. "Wha're you doin'?"

"Nothing hon, go back to sleep."

"Wher're the boys?" Ginny yawns, eyelids already drifting closed.

"With Ron."

She hmms and brushes her hair back, and then goes still again. Harry smiles and kisses his wife on the cheek. "That's about it Lily Luna," he murmurs as he does the same to his youngest. "Welcome to the Potters."

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_**A/N: **__I realllllyyyyy love this one, so hopefully when I re-read it later I don't have the urge to throw my computer out the window. Tell me what you think! Do you think I got Harry's voice right? Let me know of any typos!_


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